Except my heel met nothing but empty air.
I cried out in frustration and shock as I fell backwards, having completely forgotten how close to the edge I’d been only moments before. This was it. Once I tumbled down the hillside, the giants could collect me at their leisure. Hell, given their speed, they might even be able to catch me at the bottom. I threw out one hand in what felt like slow motion, watching the summit disappear, replaced by the night sky. I pinched my eyes shut and hit the ground.
Hard.
For a moment, all I could do was lay there, the breath driven from my lungs. But, when I realized I wasn’t rolling downhill, I opened my eyes. The night sky had changed, the stars swiveling to form altogether different patterns. I got to my feet, slowly, my head still pounding from using it as a weapon, only to find myself standing but a dozen feet away from the thrashing Tiger Lily, my body hidden amidst the shadows that lay outside the torchlight held by the two kneeling giants who held her down. I must have made a noise of some sort—likely of surprise—because her two guards immediately wheeled towards me, their faces slack.
We stared at each other like that for at least three heartbeats before all hell broke loose; the giantess yelled that they still hadn’t found my body at the base of the hill, followed by a series of other shouts declaring the same. Which meant they had no idea I’d ended up here, or how. Not that I could blame them—I hadn’t the faintest notion how I’d done it, either. One of the guards released Tiger Lily and turned towards me with his arms held wide as if to gather me in a hug, while the other prepared to shout.
But neither ever got the chance.
Tiger Lily, currently held by only one of the giants, contorted herself to bring her dagger across her captor’s hand even as I launched myself at the nearest assailant, firing off a flying punch that connected with the big bastard’s jaw. He fell like a stone. The other opened his mouth to wail, clutching his bleeding appendage, but Tiger Lily was already behind him, pressing the tip of her dagger against the soft flesh of his throat. Though little more than a needle by comparison, I knew that Tiger Lily could pierce the giant’s carotid artery, knew that the Laestrygonian would bleed out in a matter of minutes.
“Quiet!” she hissed.
The giant shut his mouth, though that didn’t put a stop to his pitiful whimpers.
“How did you know we were coming?” she asked.
The giant gasped but didn’t respond.
“Tiger Lily, we need to go,” I insisted. As much as I wanted answers, there was simply no time; once they decided to stop searching and return to the summit, we’d be nearly as worse off as we were before. From where I stood, it seemed a hell of a lot better to retreat with no answers than to get caught.
“Fine. Should I kill this one, then?” Tiger Lily growled.
But before I could answer, as if on cue, the giant fainted. Tiger Lily, unable to hold up his weight, let him collapse face first. The Neverlander sheathed her dagger, shaking her head in disgust.
“This was no warrior.”
I felt inclined to agree. When I took everything into account, it struck me that these Laestrygonians were not only incompetent fighters, but rather inept ambushers, as well. Had they come at us as one, in a coordinated effort, we’d never have stood a chance. Instead, they’d employed nets and—when that didn’t work—chased me around the hilltop as if we were playing tag. Still, there was no point putting their resolve to the test. If we were going to flee, now was our chance.
I gestured for Tiger Lily to follow, and together we hustled down the opposing slope, staying as low as we could afford to without sacrificing speed until at last we found cover among the bushes of a nearby valley. There, we paused to catch our breath. I listened for the tell-tale shouts, expecting Tiger Lily’s captors to be found at any moment. But there were none. Instead, the search for me seemed to have spread; I heard cries echo back and forth from the other side of the hill as torches were lit.
“It looks like we’re in the clear,” I whispered. “Let’s get back to the ship.”
“They’ll come looking for us. Not tonight, perhaps, but by morning.”
“Then we’d best not be there when they show up.”
“Please, we cannot leave the ship behind,” Tiger Lily insisted, her expression tortured. “It’s all we have left to remember our home by. All James has left to remember where he comes from.”
I sighed, sensing the underlying context of what Tiger Lily was saying: without the Jolly Roger, the Neverlanders might help me, but they’d never forgive themselves for leaving the ship. In time, they’d come to resent me, too. And I wouldn’t blame them. The homes we carve out for ourselves in life are often even more precious than those we are born into—the difference between something earned and something given.
“We’ll see what the others have to say,” I replied, mentally crossing my fingers. “Maybe they’ll have found a better solution, one that gets us and the ship off the island.”
Tiger Lily’s hand on my shoulder surprised me. For a moment, I thought we were about to have a little heart-to-heart, but then I realized her eyes were locked a few inches above my own. She examined the skin above my right eyebrow, squinting.
“You’re bleeding.”
“Probably from headbuttin’ the giantess,” I replied. “Don’t worry, I’ll live.”
“If it gets worse, they may be able to track us.”
Damn, I hadn’t thought of that. Realizing Tiger Lily was right, I tacitly agreed that it would be foolish to keep running until she’d bandaged my wound. The Neverlander reached into the lining of her animal hides, retrieving a small leather pouch full of an ointment that smelled of peppermint. She dabbed its contents onto my forehead, murmuring words in a language I didn’t recognize. The tincture was cool against my skin, then hot.
“What is this stuff?”
“Pixie lactation. Don’t worry, it will be healed by morning,” she said. Then, with almost deliberate slowness, she slipped each of her fingers—still coated in the gunk she’d smeared across my wound—into her mouth, sucking them clean one at a time. Once finished, she turned to me as if she’d done nothing out of the ordinary. “There is still something I don’t understand, aside from how they knew we were coming.”
“And what’s that?” I asked, choosing to ignore the hygienic implications of what she’d just done, although I did resolve to wash my face as soon as inhumanly possible. Oh, and never to drink after the Neverlander.
That’s how you get cooties.
“How did you sneak up behind them?” Tiger Lily asked.
It was a good question, and one I’d given thought to ever since I found myself on the opposite side of the hilltop—lingering in the back of my mind like a subconscious tickle. How had I done it? Was it even me? Or had someone else plucked me from midair and deposited me behind enemy lines? The truth, unfortunately, was even less pleasant to say out loud than it was to think.
“I really have no idea.”
26
Tiger Lily and I returned early, able to make it back well before sunrise at a brisk trot that seemed to tire her more than me; I was coated in a light sheen of perspiration for my trouble, while Tiger Lily seemed somehow diminished, the bones of her face more prominent beneath her morbid mask, her eyes sunken. Together, we sat huddled against a large boulder that let us keep an eye out for the others while also keeping us relatively hidden, just in case the Laestrygonians did somehow manage to track us from the garden to the coast. Unfortunately, I put our chances of remaining undetected somewhere between slim and none. At best, I figured we had the remainder of the night and maybe a few hours of the morning before they searched for us in earnest, scouring the island’s shores for signs of life other than their own.
Then again, it was entirely possible I was simply being pessimistic. After we’d flipped their ambush and taken out two of their own, they’d be foolish to come after us without knowing the full extent of our capabilities. Indeed, they might n
ot hunt us down at all if they thought we were a viable threat. Also, there was still the question of their vegetable garden and all its gargantuan splendor. What sort of cannibals went around growing carrots the size of baguettes?
“It’s James!” Tiger Lily cried, leaping from the shelter of our rock and sprinting like a demon in the dim light of dawn towards the two figures who hobbled towards us. I rose but didn’t chase after the Neverlander, opting instead to scan the uneven terrain for signs of Narcissus and Tinkerbell. I’d expected both to be back hours ago. But the horizon was empty—nothing but a pale purple blush backlighting motionless silhouettes.
Several minutes later, all three returned, the two Neverlanders cradling a limping Helen between them. As far as I could tell, there was no blood, no sign of an external injury. And yet she leaned heavily on both for support, wincing as if each step were causing considerable discomfort.
“Twisted my ankle,” she explained once she was within earshot, voice laced with pain.
“Demigoddesses can twist their ankles?” I asked.
“She saved me,” James added, helpfully. The Neverlander lowered Helen to sit, his hand loitering on her shoulder even as he sought out my face. “There was a pit, and I almost fell in, but Helen pushed me out of the way.” There was something in his voice, a tone of admiration, even fondness, that I found disconcerting. Only several hours back the two had been at each other’s throats over whether or not to leave the Jolly Roger behind. What had changed?
“It was dark,” Helen insisted. “I saw it before he did, that’s all. It was nothing.”
“It wasn’t nothing. If I’d have fallen, it would have been a lot worse than a twisted ankle.” James rose, rolling his stiff shoulders and neck. “There were rocks at the bottom of the pit. Sharp, jagged ones.”
“Sounds more like a trap to me,” Tiger Lily said, voicing my own thoughts.
“Maybe. But it was a huge pit. Deeper than it had to be, and big enough to take twenty of us out, maybe more.” James plopped down at Helen’s side, letting the demigoddess lean on him for support, one arm coiled across her shoulders. A suspicion—something I should have considered but hadn’t—flickered to life. Was it possible Helen had revealed her face to the boy? Intentionally or not, that could account for his suddenly smitten behavior. Of course, it was also feasible that the act of saving the young man’s life had endeared her to him in a way that arguing he abandon his ship had not. Either way, I’d have to have a word with the young man in private, time permitting.
“Look, there,” Tiger Lily urged, gesturing to a dim, thready glow headed this way—hardly visible against the backdrop of dawn. I almost let out a sigh of relief before I realized it was coming from the northeast, from the direction Tiger Lily and I had gone. Which made no sense.
“Is that Tinkerbell?” James asked, gawking at the weaving, strobing light.
This time it was I who took off; sensing something was amiss, I tracked the pixie’s unsteady dips, her laconic flight pattern. By the time I reached her, she was in a tailspin. I lunged for her, cradling the pixie in the palms of my hands, and drew her close. She looked exhausted, her once bubblegum pink skin as pale as a hollyhock. But at least she bore no wounds that I could see. Unfortunately, I didn’t have time to let her recover; Narcissus was still nowhere in sight, and the pixie’s flight trajectory suggested she’d been coming from entirely the wrong direction.
“Tinkerbell,” I said, speaking softly, my breath rustling her hair. “What happened?”
The pixie groaned, curling into the swell of my palm as though she’d fall asleep—something I simply couldn’t allow. Though I felt like a real jerk for doing so, I shook the poor creature. But the motion, coupled with her fatigue, was apparently too much for her; the pixie puked. Fuschia glitter spilled all over my hands.
Heh. Nailed it.
“I’m sorry, Tinkerbell. But ye have to tell us what happened,” I insisted. By this point, the others—even Helen with her limp—had joined us. I let them crowd around us, let them see that she was alright, if a bit debilitated. “Why were ye flyin’ from the northeast and not the northwest? Where’s Narcissus?”
“Caught.” Tinkerbell moaned, wiping glitter off her chin. The pixie glared at me over her shoulder as if I’d done far worse than give her motion sickness. “The Manling you sent me with told them everything.”
“Told who?” James asked.
“I don’t know. They were naked. Big. Bigger even than you all are. The one who got me jumped so high.” Tinkerbell shook her head. “I’ve never seen anything that couldn’t fly get that high.”
Tiger Lily and I exchanged meaningful glances. So, the Laestrygonians had captured Narcissus and Tinkerbell. Not good, not good at all. James caught us eyeing each other and demanded we tell them what we knew. Together, Tiger Lily and I explained what had happened on our end, though I left out a few details—like precisely how I’d managed to slip away and rescue Tiger Lily. Still, the simple fact that I’d come back for the Neverlander seemed to mollify the young man. Even Tinkerbell seemed less resentful towards me, by the time we were done filling them in.
“They sent me to tell you to come,” Tinkerbell said. “They sounded...excited.”
I glanced at the others in alarm—finding my own anxiety reflected in all faces but Helen’s— until a prick of something sharp brought me back around with a hiss. I found Tinkerbell holding a sewing needle like a miniature sword, a bead of blood welling at the tip of my thumb. Guess I’d misread her change in mood.
“They don’t want us,” she insisted. “Just you.”
“Why just me?”
“Because they want your help. They described you. They said you’d done something impossible and that you had to come.”
I shook my head, trying to comprehend what on earth the man-eating giants would want from me. What had they seen me do? Sure, I’d managed to evade their clutches and eventually escape from right under their noses, but how could something like that help them? No, the far more likely scenario, unfortunately, was that this was a trap of some sort. Perhaps the cannibals simply wanted a scrumptious pairing, something that would appeal to the true connoisseurs among them. I doubted Narcissus alone would satisfy anyone’s palate; the Greek was so full of himself I doubted he’d fill anyone else.
“Did they say what they wanted help with?” James asked.
“I didn’t ask,” Tinkerbell replied, weakly. “They kept me in a box. But I could hear them talking. Asking the Manling questions.”
“Surprised they didn’t eat him, instead,” Tiger Lily said in a way that made me wonder whether she’d have been bothered if they had. Tinkerbell’s head shot up in what I would have described as a twitch at that, except the motion proved far too much for her and ended with her convulsing in my hands as another wave of glitter spewed from her mouth. The stuff was quickly getting everywhere, twinkling obnoxiously whenever I moved.
I was no longer amused.
“They told me,” Tinkerbell managed, her voice thready and pained, “to tell you that they won’t eat him. They won’t eat any of us. They made me repeat it over and over until I got it right.”
“Made ye repeat what?” I asked, utterly baffled by the news.
“Vegetarians. They called themselves ‘vegetarians’.”
27
The decision to take the Laestrygonians up on their offer was easy to make; no matter how much Narcissus got on my nerves, I wasn’t about to leave him stranded. It’d been my plan, which meant it was my responsibility to ensure his safe return. Surprisingly, I hadn’t had to fight Helen on staying behind with Tiger Lily and Tinkerbell; she’d let James fuss over her before wishing us good luck. James had clearly preferred to stay behind as well, but I wasn’t eager to let the young man spend any more time with Helen of Troy. Her face might have launched a thousand ships, but I wasn’t sure I wanted her floating his boat.
“How far is it?” James asked, stifling a yawn.
I frowned,
only just realizing we’d all been awake for at least twenty-four hours. Ordinarily, fatigue alone would have clued me in, but for some reason, I felt as well-rested as ever. In fact, even the pangs of hunger I’d felt earlier had faded, my thirst no longer clawing at my throat. Adrenaline, maybe? The aftermath of surviving the Laestrygonian assault? I couldn’t be sure.
I considered James’ question, measuring the distance to the garden in my mind. Images of perfectly sculpted flesh flashed in quick succession against my will, prompted by the brief reflection. Was it true, I wondered? Were the Laestrygonians really vegetarians? Did that make them...Vegiants?
“To the garden Tiger Lily and I saw? A couple hours at this pace. Less, if ye t’ink ye can run.”
“I can run.” James shook himself, craning his neck back and forth. “But are you sure you’ll be able to keep up in those?”
I glanced down at my muck-covered pirate boots. Ordinarily, he might have had a point. But, with my increased durability and reflexes, I hadn’t even paused to consider my footwear; twisting my ankle was about as likely as snapping my thigh bone in two. Which, frankly, was what bothered me most about Helen’s injury. Shouldn’t a demigoddess be more durable than that?
“No, that’s alright. You’ll have trouble keepin’ pace with me as it is,” I replied, shrugging.
“Is that so?” James asked, eyes glinting with amusement. “Race you!”
The Neverlander took off at a brisk clip, one hand pinning his scabbarded sword in place to keep it from lurching about. I watched the young man for a moment, admiring his long gait; though not yet fully grown and still gangly, James moved remarkably well. In time, and given the right stimuli, he’d be what I’d call athletic. Which, if I’d been your average, ordinary woman, meant I’d probably have struggled to beat him in a race of any sort. As it was, however, he might as well have been crawling. I took off at a sprint, tearing gouges into the earth with every stride, pumping my arms so fast my jacket squealed from the friction.
Sea Breeze: Phantom Queen Book 8 - A Temple Verse Series (The Phantom Queen Diaries) Page 15